


The Naked Truth

by Crollalanza



Category: Shaderunners (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 03:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11005278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: Ezra wakes up to the unedifying sight of a naked Easton on his bed, and no idea what has happened.





	The Naked Truth

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this story is based on the fact that two of the Shaderunners have seen each other naked, and this was my best guess. It takes place just after Ezra first met Easton.

Waking up to find Easton Lynch’s junk winking up at him, was not the most efficacious start to a day Ezra had ever had. In fact, when he thought about it, it was probably the least pleasant early morning sight he’d ever had – and that included the time he’d woken as a kid to find his cat had presented him with a dead mouse as a gift.

He was, however prepared to take some of the responsibility for the ugliness in front of him, because with the headache he was currently nursing, nothing – not even the glimmer of gold he’d glimpsed once long ago – would have looked good.

But Lynch’s tackle. His limp dick nestling in wiry black hair was really not an appealing sight in the cold light of day.

 _And,_ Ezra wondered, _would it be any more attractive under lamplight, under the stars, or when it was pitch black?_ He shuddered thinking about it, then another equally abhorrent thought crashed in on him. Was this the first time he’d seen Easton Lynch’s genitalia?

_Oh!_

Last night had been wild, and the man currently collapsed beside him had been the ringleader, procuring drink after drink, generous to a fault, with a ready smile and a somewhat engaging – if guttural – laugh when he found Ezra’s conversation amusing.

_Did we?_

Ezra groaned inwardly. Memories of this man’s arms around him, hands around his waist as they staggered home. Of Ezra slumping against a lamppost and staring upwards to see Easton’s dark eyes lit with amusement before he took another drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke plume around the pair of them.

_But did we?_

He reached down, intent on smoothing his hand over his body, checking for any proof, anything that could give him an answer ...

_I’m clothed._

He checked again, feeling the tweed in his palm, but gooseflesh on his torso.

All right, I’m shirtless, but not trouserless. And his braces were intact, rubbing against his chest and shoulder, the metal buckle digging into his nipple.

_But he ... He’s naked?_

_Why?_

Gingerly he slid off the bed, crouching on the floor to deaden the sound in case he woke the sleeping ‘beauty’ sprawled on his sheets.

And then he spotted it. In the corner of the room by the sink - a heap of clothes. Not his. Draped over the sink, soaking, was his shirt. It was new, unworn before last night and as Ezra crept across to inspect, he recalled another incident.

 

“Hey, Mr Intellectual, watch your footing?”

Easton’s hand had grabbed him too late and Ezra had lurched into a wall, ricocheting off and into a trashcan, splattering his shirt with mushy banana skins and a mouldy tomato. And from the looks of the rest of the clothes, Easton had also fallen into the garbage. 

But clearly Lynch didn’t care about stain removal.

Ezra’s head began to pound again. The putrid smell of rubbish offending his nostrils, after another check on his house guest, he slid out of the bedroom and into his small (but thankfully clean) bathroom.

The water was hot, steaming up the tiny window and he inhaled, hoping the vapour would clear his head. It wasn’t a large bath. He certainly couldn’t stretch out, but could either sit with his knees to his chest, or submerge his head and chest while hanging his legs over the side.

Stripping, he stuck his toe in the water, adjusting the temperature a tad, before finally getting in. He reached out for his soap, rubbing the lather over his body, hoping the grime of last night would wash away, even if the memories still impinged on his mind.

He clutched his sponge to his face, and raked it over his cheeks. Then, taking the plunge, Ezra submerged, letting his hair cloud like a mermaid’s underwater.

His cheeks stung as the water hit them and he surfaced suddenly, running his hand across his face as he made another connection.

Stubble burn.  Ouch!

 _Kisses,_ Ezra thought, touching his bruised lips, _were one thing._ But it should have ended at the doorway.  Who knows what he could have seen?

He could see Pamina now, her usual bleak expression pulled into a grimace. Easton Lynch had made their acquaintance two weeks before. He _said_ he was an ally. He wanted to be their friend or more, he’d hinted (although Pam had given him short shrift when he’d squeezed past her, quelling him with a look so loaded with disgust, the cigarette had fallen from his mouth and he’d blundered backwards). But although both of them recognised that a man like Easton Lynch could be incredibly useful, what with his connections, there was a distinct whiff of untrustworthiness about him.

 _He’s the type who’d sell us out,_ Pamina had warned, _for the price of a tin of tobacco._

_Hell!_

He leapt to his feet, sending the water slopping over the rim of the bathtub.

_And I’ve left him alone in there!_

Wrenching open the door, he burst back into his bedroom, ready to catch Easton Lynch in whatever nefarious act he was intent on.

“Hey, handsome.”

_Huh?_

Easton, wearing only a smile, had rolled himself a cigarette, a swirl of smoke drifting from his smirking lips. “ _Dressed_ for action, yeah?” he continued.

“What?” Ezra blinked, then seeing Easton’s heavy lidded eyes travel up and down, and the tip of his tongue poke through his teeth, he gasped.

He had a sponge. That was all. A small sponge, not even a flannel, or a towel, and the lather from the soap had long since stopped masking anything. Too late Ezra thought about dropping his hands, or turning around. Too late, because Easton’s gaze had settled on Ezra’s midriff – or just below.

“The thing is,” Easton drawled. “I love that you’ve gone to this effort, cleaning yourself up for me and all that, but ... uh ...” He shifted up the bed, taking a last puff of his cigarette before grinding it out in the empty coffee cup on the side. “I got things to do and people to see.” He quirked his eyebrow. “Or maybe that’s things to see and people to do.”

“What?”

“For a man as clever as you are, Kelly, your vocabulary this mornin’ is kinda limited.”

Ezra goggled at him, now unable to find a word, let alone string a sentence together.

But Easton carried on, taking pleasure in Easton’s obvious discomfort. “So, Mr Intellectual, if it ain’t too much trouble, could I have that bath after you?” Easton gave him a wink, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards in perfect synchronicity. “Unless you’d like to share. I know a lot of things we could do with that sponge of yours ...”

He was still laughing when Ezra threw the sponge, but at least it landed with a satisfactory splat right on his flaccid dick. 

And despite the mental note he made to tell Pam that the guy was a liability and one they should no longer use, the naked truth was that Easton Lynch was going to be too hard to shake off, and he was in for the long haul.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if there's a bit more story heading your way, but there could be ...


End file.
